


Opening Gambit

by flake_sake, Morgana



Series: Playing Games [1]
Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: BDSM, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-01
Updated: 2009-12-31
Packaged: 2017-10-06 11:00:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 20,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/52976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flake_sake/pseuds/flake_sake, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morgana/pseuds/Morgana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The opening move goes a long way to determining the final outcome</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**He's following me. He's been following me every night when I've gone out on patrol. He doesn't think I know, but then subtlety never was Angelus' strong suit. He always did prefer a club when a fingertip would've done. But I'm not going to let on, not when the game's barely started. Besides, I've patrolled all week, fought the forces of darkness and all that, and behaved myself like a good little boy. Figure I've earned a night off and if Angel doesn't like it, he can stuff it.**

I head over to the bar and order a whiskey, then get my smokes out and light one. The first rush of nicotine's almost as good as fresh blood, especially after the kind of shit that's been going down lately, and the whiskey just makes it better. God, there's nothing like a cigarette and a stiff drink at the end of a week spent killing things... unless maybe you throw in a hot piece like the one that's eyeing me across the room. I can feel the old codger's glare boring into my back as I raise my glass and give the boy over there a smile. Might as well, right? Not like Angel's about to give up his Batman routine long enough to loosen up and admit he might want something besides his precious redemption.

He’s not sneaky at all, you know. Just strides down the middle of the sidewalk like he owns the place and picks a fight with every demon he comes across, all because he's so damn cocky. He obviously doesn’t remember a single thing I taught him about hunting. Although it's not like he can really hunt in a bar, so I guess I can't say anything about that. And it's a demon bar, too, if the sign means anything. Wait... glowing red devil feeling up a glowing blue angel? And they're both... naked?! He's in a gay bar? A gay demon bar?! What the hell does he think he's doing in a gay demon bar?!? He's supposed to be a Champion, and that means following in my footsteps, saving people and killing things. My footsteps would never have led someplace like this!

He lit a cigarette! I can’t believe he just did that- how does he plan to pick up scents? Of course, I shouldn't be surprised, not after I've seen him do stuff like this all week. I don't think I'll ever understand how he survived a hundred years being that reckless. And of course drinking's the next thing he thinks about. It always is. Maybe I should go up to the bar and- ohhhh, no. He did _not_ just smile at that scrawny nothing of a guy in the corner there! And why are so many people always staring at Spike anyway?

**I start counting silently, and don't even make it to seven before the bloke walks over to sit down next to me. "Hi," he says. "Thought maybe you could use some company." I turn and look at him, give him the fuck-me eyes up and down. Dark hair, green eyes, looks like he's flexible enough to make for a fun time... all in all, not a bad night's work. Especially when it wasn't any work at all.**

"Company's good," I tell him.

He smiles, then holds his hand out. "I'm Rick."

"Spike," I answer, sliding my hand into his. "C'mon, let's have a turn about the dance floor, pet."

We head out to the dance floor, and it doesn't take two seconds before we're plastered together, grinding against each other. Of course, that's partly because the place is too packed to allow for much space- but only partly. I turn the boy around, so Angel gets a good look at my hand as it slips down to cup his ass. He moans and turns his head to kiss my neck, and I can't hold a gasp back, especially when his lips ghost over the scar down at the base of my throat.

I'm going to kill him. First he gives that idiot one of those looks that could melt steel, and now he's out there on the dance floor trying to climb into his skin! Where does that little shit get off, giving those kinds of looks to someone who isn't me?

He’s got to know I'm watching now, because he starts moving against the boy like a cheap whore, even gropes him right under my nose, although I don't know what he thinks there is to hold on to with that skinny little sewer rat. I wrap my hands around the iron railing on the balcony and pretend it's both their necks. Then the boy touches the scar. _My_ scar. That does it- Champion or not, I'm putting an end to this display.

The club's pretty crowded, but growls tend to clear a path, and it doesn't take long to get downstairs. Spike's too busy trying to see how far down the idiot's throat he can get his tongue to notice me when I clear my throat, but getting his attention has never really been a problem for me.

**I'm just starting to get into it, to really enjoy the kiss when a hand settles on the back of my collar and yanks me away. "Hey! We're snoggin' here!"**

"Too bad." Bloody hell. It just figures that Angel would pick now to get all possessive and shit.

"Hey, sorry... didn't know you were with someone," Rick stammers, then bolts, leaving me still dangling from Angel's grip.

I glare up at him. "Wanna tell me what the hell you think you're doin' ?"

I don't bother answering him, just tighten my grip and drag him towards the outside door, ignoring the curses that draw more than one person's stare. We have things to discuss and I refuse to scream over the noise. As soon as we get outside, he elbows me in the stomach and stomps down on my foot, then spits, "Okay, that's it. Where the fuck do you get off ruinin' my night like that, huh, mate?"

I push him up against the wall and glare at him. He's all sweaty from dancing, and maybe even a bit drunk even. Either way, he won't last long. "You're very lucky if that's the only thing I'll be ruining tonight," I growl as I turn his head to the side to get a look at my scar. It reeks of spit and cheap aftershave, and there's no way I'm letting him go anywhere while he still smells like that boy.

**He forces my head to the side and stares at me, and I've just about had it. What the fuck does he- oh yeah, the scar. Shit. He must've seen the kid licking me. "Look, dunno what you're after, but how's about you sod off an' let me go back in for a bit of fun, then we'll sort it all out tomorrow. Sound good?"**

When he doesn't answer, I shrug. "Didn't think so." I vamp out and start to struggle out of my coat, kicking him every chance I get as hard as I can. If he thinks I'm going down without a fight, he's very much mistaken.

The little shit just doesn’t know what’s good for him. He keeps wriggling and kicking, and of course he wouldn't be Spike if he shut up for even one second. Fuck, he got my shin! Doesn’t matter, though, cause I'm gonna give him what he's been begging for all night. I grab his face and smash the back of his head into the bricks but he manages to sink his fangs into my palm before he goes limp.

I catch him before he collapses and sling him over my shoulder, then start walking towards the law office. We get a couple of weird looks from people on the street, but a brief, "Too much to drink," keeps them from prying into things too much. Spike's too light, and I wonder how often he's eating and what. One more thing to ask about when he wakes up.

Once we're inside the penthouse, I dump Spike on the carpet and start stripping off the rags that he calls clothes. I'll never understand why he dresses like this, like he wants to hide how gorgeous he is. I'd burn the stuff if I didn't think he'd pitch an even bigger fit when he woke up and found them destroyed. Once he's naked, I can't help but look at him. Hell, he really does look starved, his skin stretched thin as parchment over the ribs I shouldn't be able to see so clearly. I don't like it. His face, though... his face is beautiful, pale and quiet, like he's asleep. I reach out to touch one of his ribs, but the cheap cologne from that idiot earlier makes me recoil, and I haul him up and head for the bathroom. First things first, I'm going to get rid of that stench.

Guess Wesley wasn't so wrong when he insisted that I keep magical restraints around, after all. I'll owe him an apology and a bottle of scotch for that, but right now the important thing is making sure Spike stays put. I grab the cuffs and wrap the chain around the shower curtain, then close the metal on his wrists and lean him against the tile wall. Then I get rid of my clothes and turn on the water, step into the shower and reach for my body wash. 

**Water in my face wakes me up, and I can tell you that a night in the shower with steel around my wrists was _not_ on my agenda for the night! And what the fuck does he think he's doing with that bloody gel? The bastard wasn't satisfied with just knocking me out, he had to go and chain me up while he fucking _washes_ me?!? I open my mouth to yell, but he clamps his hand over it and all I can do is twist halfway around and glare at his shoulder as he reaches for more gel. It stinks to high heaven, too- mango and coconut. Should've known the poof would like some kind of girlie soap.**

He starts with my neck, washing my scar until I think it's going to open up and start bleeding again, then moves down my chest and I've about had it. Who does he think he is, washing me like I'm some kind of child or something? I try to squirm out of his grasp, but I swear he grew another four or five sets of hands in addition to the handcuffs, because he doesn't even pause, just keeps soaping me up.

I’m really glad I chained him up. It’s like wrestling an eel to try and contain him, especially when you factor in the whole wet and pissed off thing."Will you fucking hold still, or do I have to knock you out again?" Of course, this just makes him twist more, so I wrap a hand around his throat and squeeze just a little. He stills long enough for me to run a wet hand down his back. I can feel every single wiry rope of muscle and it’s getting me hard as a rock, but I try to pretend I'm not affected until I reach the curve of his perfect ass. I tell myself that I have to be extra thorough, purely for his own good, so I release his neck and pour more gel onto my hand. "You can’t just go out there and let yourself be fingered by every guy you come across, understand? It’s not good for you. Besides, you're under my care now, and I’ll have none of that," I tell him as I stroke his cheeks, then part them enough to stroke a soapy finger over his hole.

**"Wasn't lettin' him finger me," I mutter. If anyone was going to be taking it, he would've, but of course His Broodiness can't be bothered to let on that he heard me, just keeps washing me. I'm trying not to think about it, but his hands on my skin feel almost good enough to let it go. It's been too long since somebody touched me like this, and longer than I like to think about since that someone was Angel. When a finger presses against my ass, I can't stop from pressing back, but when it fills me... God! I gasp and hold still. Fuck, that feels good!**

He slides his finger in and out, then reaches around to cup my balls, and I moan as he starts massaging me. "Gotta wash you everywhere," he whispers, but I know he's got a helluva lot more than just washing on his mind. I can feel his dick pressing against my back, almost as hard as my own, and this is much more like what I wanted from the start. He doesn't touch my cock, though, just keeps washing my balls like he's gonna try to eat off of them later. Not that I'd mind if he did, of course.

I wrap my hand around him and start fisting his cock with a loose grip. He starts to moan and squirm against me, pressing his ass against my hard on. "You like this, don’t you? You just live to provoke me til I take you in hand properly. You don’t give two cents about the danger you pose to my soul. You just go and make me so mad that I lose control. But this time... this time it's not going to end with a little fistfight, Spike. This time you’re gonna walk away knowing exactly who owns your ass."

I shove my fingers back inside him to emphasize my point and his gasp makes me even harder. He always did drive me crazy with the noises that he made. I used to torture him for days just to see how many different sounds I could elicit from him, and he never let me down, from gutwrenching screams to strangled sobs. Now it’s different; there's creative strings of curses that make me chuckle and I wonder what he's going to sound like when I'm buried inside him.

**Jesus Christ, why did I fight him again? Cause with his hand wrapped around my prick and his cock against my ass, it's really hard to remember. It takes me a minute to realize what he's saying, and while losing control sounds like a bloody great idea, he can't be serious about his soul. I open my mouth to ask about it, but a finger slides up inside me and I moan instead. Fuck, that feels good! But he doesn't move it, just holds still until I'm ready to scream. "C'mon, poofter, move it! Need to feel... fuck, Angel, don't tease me!"**

He stops stroking me and shoves two fingers in my mouth. "Keep that tongue of yours in check," he growls. I suck on his fingers for a second before the taste of soap makes me try to get away again. All I end up with is his finger lodged deeper inside my ass and a mouth that tastes like like soddin' mango soap. I know what he's after- he wants me whining and whimpering like some kind of pet, begging for his touch so he feels like the big, powerful man. Well, he can whistle for it. Bastard couldn't break me when he was soulless, sure as hell not gonna let him win now.

The kid's scent is gone, and now all I can smell is soap, Spike, and me. Just the way it should be. And the fact that he's basically helpless and seconds away from begging me to fuck him is a pretty nice bonus, as well. He can pretend all he wants when we’re in public, but all it takes is a little bit of play to bring him back to a needy, moaning mess, begging for his sire’s cock. The way he fights it with every fiber of his being makes it all the more delicious. It’s ingrained into his very being. I ought to feel guilty about the things I did to him to make him this way but I just can’t bring myself to do so. He’s clearly enjoying himself and there is no damage I could possibly do that Angelus hasn’t already done. No need to hold back with him, just the need to spread him open and-

"Angel," he moans, pressing back against me, already begging for it. Ahhh, there it is, that tone in his voice that indicates that he’s going to die from need if I don’t fuck him this very moment. And this is gonna have to go down fast because I’m not going to be able to keep myself together for much longer, not when he’s writhing like a bitch in heat already. "Is there something you want, boy?"

**"Bloody hell, just fuck me, wouldja?" Bastard thinks he's gonna make me beg, but I'm not that stupid fledge anymore, and he needs to realize that. I shove back against him, but he stays out of range and I rattle the handcuffs. "Stop being such a fucking cocktease, Angelus!"**

That was either the incredibly right thing or the incredibly wrong thing to say, because I feel him stiffen behind me. I think he's about to turn the shower off and walk away, but then he grabs my hips and shoves that monster of a cock inside me with one stroke, and I can't keep myself from screaming. Fuck! Hasn't he ever heard of lube? And not soap, because it's stinging like hell and all of a sudden I'm wondering why I thought I wanted this. I start struggling hard now, yanking against the curtain rod until I can feel it start to wobble. "Jesus Christ, Angel!"

For a minute I think I might come just from the feel of him wrapped so damn tight around me. He starts wriggling and cursing, and he's probably gonna get loose any minute now, but I’m beyond caring. I wrap my arms around him and pull him back against me as I start to move, one hand slipping down to stroke his cock, the other teasing his nipple. He quivers against me, drawn taut like a bowstring, and I hope to God he's ready, because I can't stop now.

The curtain rod pulls out of the wall and clatters to the floor, but he doesn't try to get away, just melts against me in sudden surrender and whispers, "Angel... please." The yearning I can hear in his voice breaks my last walls down, and I think I'd take on the world just to hear him say he's mine. And I hope like hell that I didn't just say that last part aloud. My hips start to pound into him as if they posses a will of their own, while my hands stroke him, roaming his body as I try to learn him all over again. He gasps and I bite his shoulder to hold back my groan. He's so fucking responsive that it makes my head spin. I want to possess him, mark him and sink so deeply into him and that I can't tell where I end and he begins.

**I bite my lip, trying like hell to hold out. Have to wait, have to- "Ohhhh God," I moan, and just like that, I'm spilling it all out, babbling about need and want and sire and _yours_, and I can only hope he's too into fucking me to really pay attention. I've killed two Slayers and fought beside a third. I've slaughtered armies and held out against a hell god, the embodiment of evil itself, and the US government, but just now, it feels like none of it happened, like I'm that same pathetic fledge that needed him so badly. And while I hate myself for it, I can't help whimpering and tilting my head, just the tiniest bit. He won't bite, not Angel. But if I close my eyes, I can pretend, just for a few seconds while I ride the fine edge of ecstasy...**

Fangs slice into my skin and I'm gone. He's biting me. My sire's biting me, and even if it doesn't mean what I want it to, it's like that first time all over again. "Fuck!" My scream echoes off the walls of the bathroom and I shake in his arms, come fountaining over his hand until it mingles with the water that went cold long ago. I almost black out, but somehow manage to hang on to consciousness, and my reward is his growl as he thrusts against me hard and comes, his hands digging into my hips. I'm going to bruise from that, but I don't care. At least then I'll know that this was real, that it actually happened and it wasn't just some dream or fantasy.

When I start to have any feeling at all, I'm aware of four things- my ass hurts like hell, Angel's fangs are still in my neck, I'm leaking come and he's still holding me. It feels good, and for a few seconds I close my eyes and pretend he'll keep doing it, that he won't shove me away as soon as he realizes what happened. He will, of course. They all do- it's what I was made for, to fuck and use until they don't want me anymore. I swallow hard, then say, "Gonna let go now, then?" because if he doesn't, I'm gonna start crying.

I’m still shivering in the aftermath of the most powerful orgasm I've had in years, and he wants to leave? It was only the guilt that I felt when I bit into him that kept the soul in place, and even that was almost wiped out when I tasted him. He was so different, so unlike the youngling I used to feed from, and it was intoxicating. Spike's his own vampire now, and I can taste it in his blood- he's a river of strength, a wild inferno like the fire that saved the world somehow sank into him and became part of him. If it weren't for knowing the kind of bliss we just shared, I could almost envy the demons that died in that wild rush that came from the heart of him. He starts to pull away and I ease my fangs free, but can't quite bring myself to turn him loose just yet. I lick the last drops of his blood free before his wound closes, tightening my grip a little as he moves again. "Don't."

"Can't stand here all night. Water's gettin' cold, an' while you might be into sufferin', I like bein' warm," he tells me. Why does he want to do this? Why can't he just let me hold him for a little bit? I just want to feel him nearby for a few more minutes before I have to go back to being Angel again.

But I'm not going to force him to stay. I grind my teeth and let go of him. "Of course." The awkwardness is beginning to set in, hanging heavily around us. I don't know what I was thinking- this is Spike, after all. Sex is just sex to him, nothing mind blowing or world changing about it. I pull out of him and unlock the cuffs, then step out of the shower, trying to pull myself together, but nearly ruin the whole show by almost tripping over the discarded curtain rod.

**I shoot a hand out to catch him when he trips. "Easy there, luv." The instant the words are out of my mouth, I want to crawl away. He'll know now; he'll have to. Might as well paint 'I want my sire back' in big fluorescent letters all over my bare and bloody ass. I wait until he's steady, then let him go and climb out of the tub, hissing as I'm reminded of why I don't do this more often. Be a right treat with lube and lots of play, but he took me nearly dry, and that's a whole other world entirely.**

He doesn’t say anything, but I recognize that guilty look in his eyes. He's probably wondering what he ever wanted with me again, but all he does is bite his lip and hand me a towel. I wrap it around my waist and look down at my feet and the growing puddle of pinkish water that's collecting on the floor. "Well, that was-" _Earthshattering. Fantastic_. _The hottest thing I've done in a hundred years._

_Earthshattering. Fantastic. Soul-stealing perfect._ "Yeah, it was," I echo. "Thank you." The second the words leave my lips, I want to smack myself. It's probably the stupidest thing imaginable that you could say to someone that you knocked out and all but raped in your shower just because he was dancing with someone that wasn't you._  
_  
**I dry off and go into the bedroom, then get dressed. Christ, it hurts. I'm reminded of all those times with Buffy, when she'd use me, then run out. This time I'm the one leaving, but I'd rather walk out than get shoved out, and I know what's coming if I hang around. We've played this game before, and I know the steps by heart. "See you round, Angel," I tell him, then head back to my dingy little apartment. Maybe somewhere there's a liquor store that'll deliver enough bottles to keep me unconscious enough to forget what happened until I can deal with it... like, say, sometime in the next century or two.**

"See you," I say softly as the door closes behind him. He probably didn't hear it, or if he did, he's not going to bother to answer. I don't know what I was expecting, anyway. It's not like I want him to stay, and even if I did, not like he'd want to. He's told me over and over again that he's his own man now and while some of the old kinks still work, he doesn't belong to me. Not anymore.

I should clean up the mess in the bathroom, but right now all I want is a stiff drink or twelve. That way I won't have to think about going after him and dragging him back here again until he agrees to stay. And maybe if I get drunk enough, I can manage not to think about tonight and maybe even look Spike in the eye again... in a month or so.


	2. Chapter 2

Time management is everything if you're trying to avoid someone. For the last week I've managed to keep my contact with Spike limited to public meetings, when important world-saving business has kept us too busy to do more than talk about patrol or possible impending apocalypses. He hasn't mentioned the shower incident, and neither have I. Maybe in another three weeks we can pretend it never happened. And maybe at some point after that I can quit asking for security tapes just so I can see him.

I've gotten to be an expert in Spike over the past seven days. That slight limp he had after the first night just about drove me crazy, the subtle reminder of what had happened leaving me caught between apology and the desire to take him over and over again until he was in no condition to run from me anymore. He seemed to take longer than usual to heal, and I realized again how stupid I was not to give him an apartment here. At least then I'd have known if he was feeding properly. But I let him go, so now I have to rely on what little the security footage will tell me, and pray that he doesn't hate me enough to starve himself. In the meantime, I'll do what I can to distract myself.

**I've had it. Spent the whole week avoiding Angel as much as possible since that little scene in the shower and the bastard doesn't even care. He might think we can just go back to the whole buddy-cop routine, but I'm done with letting him call the shots. I've got a plan, you see, and this time I'm not giving up until it comes out right.**

Everything's been checked and double checked, and there's only one thing I need to put it all into motion. Like always, Angel's in his office, but that just makes it all the easier for me. I walk in and toss my bag on his desk. Can't give him time to react or he'll catch on, so I spit out, "Been thinkin', an' I'd say that after you interrupted me last week, I'm owed a little somethin'."

I _owe_ him?!? Of course I do, after the way I treated him, but I can't admit it out loud. “Did you hit your head or something? All I owe you is a kick in the ass on your way out the door!” He doesn't say anything, so I point at the plastic bag on the desk and ask, “And what’s that, anyway?”

One eyebrow rises and he stares me down for a minute, then says, very quietly, "You know exactly what you owe me for. Took three days to heal up from that little personal grooming session you gave me." Three days? It didn't look that bad on the footage! I never should've let him go without feeding him- should've forced it down his throat if he wouldn't take it, and Spike was the one that suffered for my pride. He always has. I open my mouth to apologize, but he cuts me off. "Got you a prezzie. Why don't you take a look at it?"

I open the package and stare at what's inside, fighting back a gasp. It’s a broad black leather band with a gleaming silver buckle. A collar, although definitely not one intended for a dog. Or a slender, fine-boned childe. Angelus would never have decorated his boy in such a manner. A collar means possession, and that implies a care that I couldn't bring myself to admit to. So that just leaves- no, he can't honestly think I'd- I swallow hard and tear my eyes away long enough to look up at him.

**Oh yeah, I've definitely got his attention now. I hook my fingers through my belt loops and smirk at him. "Way I figure it, after twenty plus years with Angelus an' that one night with you, I've got a little somethin' comin'. So I'll take a night of my own in payment. Tomorrow night, as a matter of fact.”**

“What? No! Spike! C'mon, you can't possibly be serious about this!” And maybe I wouldn't be, if he weren't still holding on to that bag and staring at me with those big brown eyes.

"Serious enough, mate. Look at it this way: I'll either be spendin' tomorrow night at the club with you, or I'll be in my apartment, packin' for Europe.” God, I hate using that threat with him, but something has to change. If it doesn't, I'll lose my mind. This has to work, it's just got to.

Packing? He'd really leave over this? Fuck, I didn't see that coming. Blackmail, sure, and definitely the idea that he'd tell my friends, but not this. It catches me right in the gut and I know that now that I've got him back, I can't watch him leave. I nod slowly, trying not to let him see how anxious the prospect of him being gone makes me.

He stares at me for a second, then says, “Ten o'clock, here in the office, on your knees when I come in. Want you dressed right- leather pants, silk shirt an' nothin' underneath. An' don't touch the collar 'til then. That's mine to put on you."

I want to roar at him, demand to know exactly who the insolent little bastard thinks he is, to order his sire down to his knees, but I know I can’t. He’s not my boy anymore to use whenever I feel like it, and the cold look he gives me before he turns and walks out sends shivers down my spine. And just like that, I know I'll be waiting for him, just the way he wants.

I spend most of the next day arguing with myself, trying to ignore the little voice that screams at me not to do this, the instinct that demands that I make Spike pay for even thinking that I'd kneel to him warring with the growing desire to do whatever it takes to get him back by my side and back in my bed. By sunset I've given up any pretense of reluctance and started trying on leather pants, first with boxers and then without, like he dictated, before I decide to wear the boxers anyways. After what feels like another couple of hundred years in hell, I finish getting dressed and go downstairs to wait in my office.

Ten o'clock arrives, but there's no Spike. Five, then ten minutes pass, and I start to realize with a slow, sinking feeling that he isn't coming, that this was all just a way to make me pay for the countless times I reveled in his humiliation. He's probably got some kind of camera wired up and is laughing his head off at me kneeling for him like a pathetic loser. Fifteen minutes, and I can't stay still any longer. I get to my feet and start pacing, trying to figure out where he might be. I've got to find him, wherever he is, hunt him down and try to get him to talk this out, let me make it right somehow.

**I've been standing outside Angel's office door for almost twenty minutes now. I can't seem to make myself open the door and go in, can't stop wondering about what I'm going to do if he's not there, or if he's there only so he can tell me to fuck off. It's been driving me buggy all day, thinking about the fact that I told him I was leaving if he didn't do this. So now, if he's not there, I either have to go or basically admit I'm his bitch. I take a shaky breath, then reach for the doorknob.**

He slides to his knees when the door swings open, and I have to hold back a howl of triumph. He's there! My sire's waiting for me on his knees, looking like sin itself in leather and silk, and just maybe he wants to set this whole fucked-up mess behind us as much as I do. I want to shout hallelujah, want to scream out my relief that I don't have to leave to the skies, but I can't. This was just the first part of my plan, and now I have to put the rest into effect. I walk over to the desk and pick up the collar, stroking the leather as I go back to him. He bows his head and just the suggestion of submission in the gesture makes me instantly hard for him. "Ask for it."

He raises his head to glare at me, but I'm not about to give in on something like this. After a few seconds of staring at each other, he sighs. “Just do it, already, Spike!” It's not good enough and I open my mouth to tell him so when he adds softly, “Please.” He never did like having to ask for things, so I decide to cut him a little slack.  
  
He scowls at me, then leans down and slips the collar around my neck, the leather suddenly confining and final in a way I didn't expect when the buckle closes. "Woulda got a kiss if you'd asked nice," he tells me before he straightens up. "Rules for the night, then: We're goin' to a place I found, an' you'll be expected to act right. No talkin' unless you've been given permission, you go to your knees whenever we stop an' you call me Master or Sir. Can't play by those rules, then say so now. Got it?"

I find myself caught between yearning for the missed chance at a kiss and wishing I could kick Angelus’ ass for teaching him how to play these games in the first place. I can't deny him this, not when I owe it to him after the years of forced submission. I nod slowly and whisper, “Yes, Sir.”

His smile could steal the heart of an archangel, and when he cups my cheek and strokes my skin with his thumb, I can't possibly regret giving this to him. "Good boy. Up then, an' let's go have some fun." When I get to my feet, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out- a leash?!? Oh God, there's no way I can go out with him like that. I start to back away, but he clips the lead onto my collar before I can react and leans in to purr, "For tonight, you're mine an' I'm not sharin'."

**He doesn't say anything as we go downstairs and start towards the club, and I wonder what's going through that head of his. Tonight's either going to be the breakthrough point we've been needing, or it will leave us even farther apart than we've ever been. I don't know what I'll do if that happens. The bouncer at the club lets us in easily enough, although I think Angel's about to have a stroke when I give our names as William the Bloody and Pet. I lead him in, eager to see what he thinks about the place I've chosen.**

We draw more than a little attention as we walk down the stairs into the main club. Of course we do- we're two hot as hell blokes, after all. I take him over to a table, then stop him before he can kneel. "Wanna show off what I've got," I tell him as I unbutton his shirt. Fuck, he's beautiful in silk and leather, and that collar's almost enough to make me throw the plan out the window. When I'm done, I push him down and take a seat in the chair next to him. "Look around, tell me what you see."

I swallow down the automatic insult that comes to mind and try to do as he asks. I have to at least try to let go of my reservations or this won't be any good at all for him. And I can't let that happen, can't fail him in this. So I glance around the room, taking it all in. It’s a pretty wild mix of demons and humans, some people dressed in nothing more than strips of leather. There are dancers in cages and a lot of people are with slaves, for the lack of better word, yet most of the doms look kind of pathetic. Nothing like Spike, who radiates control without doing anything more than sitting next to me. More than one hungry gaze lingers on him, and I swallow. “People are staring at you…Sir.” I had to fight to keep from calling him Master. Much more of this and he'll have me screaming it- and what's more, meaning it.

"An' why do you think that is, pet?" He puts a hand on the back of my neck, fingers stroking my collar and I almost tell him the truth. Because of the eyes, the lips, the cheekbones and most of all because it takes about a second to see that he’s a total anomaly, that he’s overturned all the rules and boundaries that hold everybody else back. Because these people are looking for a thrill and he’s the single most beautiful, and deadly, thing in the room.

He gives the leash a sharp tug and I blurt out, “Because you're gorgeous enough to turn anyone on.”

I'm glad vampires can't blush when he chuckles and tells me, "See, I think it's more'n that. Most of these poor sods've never seen the likes of either you or me, an' gettin' a look at both of us is enough to make half the room cream their pants." Fingers curl around the ring in my collar and he pulls me up into a formal kneel, then leans over to kiss me. It's light and sweet, and enough to make me put up with any game as long as I get more like it. "So hungry for me, luv. An' we haven't even checked out the back rooms yet..."

**Holding back from a real kiss has never been harder, but I know it'll be worth it. My sire's a sucker for those romantic little gestures- always was, even if he'd have burned in the midday sun before admitting it. And when I drop that little nugget about the club's special rooms, his beautiful brown eyes widen and he asks shakily, “Back rooms?”**

Yeah, I knew that would get him. Don't know if he's wanting to get away from the people who can't stop staring at us or if he's actually curious to see what's back there. Of course, it doesn't really matter, not when he's practically begging for the next step. And I'm not sure how much longer I can wait to see his reaction when he sees what I have planned. "Got a whole slew of 'em through that door over there," I reply, jerking my chin towards the blacklit entrance and the demon guarding it. "Wanna take a look?"

“Please, Sir”

Between the look in his eyes and his pretty plea, I really can't deny him. Not that I want to, of course. I stand up and give his leash a little tug to get him on his feet, then lead him to the door. A twenty and flash of fang makes sure we get through the door, and the second we step into the hallway the scent of blood and pain and sex is everywhere, enough to make my demon purr in satisfaction. I take him first to the human rooms, where we see slaves stretched out on St Andrews' crosses while they're flogged or whipped with a crop, where the pets are made to crawl to kiss their dominant's feet and beg for more, and when I see him looking at one particular man who's kneeling in front of his Mistress, his body striped with welts and cuts that draw the eye inexorably to his hard-as-steel erection, I ask, "Like what you see, Angel?"

The little bastard tricked me. He had to know I'd think the back rooms were private, but instead they're a free-for-all, where sex, blood, desire and pain make the air smell like a vampire's idea of heaven. I'm getting harder with every second, but I can't tear my gaze away. I suck in a sharp breath and nearly groan as the taste of sensuality fills my senses. And by the time I realize he's still waiting for his answer, it's too late.

He slaps me hard enough to send me to my knees again, my head ringing from the blow. "I asked you a question!" he hisses. We're drawing the attention of some of the room's inhabitants, and he yanks me up hard enough to tear a strangled moan from my throat. Blue eyes blaze down at me with a sudden rage that only makes me want him more. "Answer me now, pet, or the night stops here."

**“Yes, Christ, Spike… Master, yes. Please”**

**That's more like it, and just hearing him call me Master is enough to repay me for a thousand nights of torture. I ease my grip a little, allowing him a tiny bit of freedom as my hand slides up his throat to cup his cheek. "Please what, baby? Please take you in there an' tie you up, beat you til you scream? Please go to the demon rooms an' cut you til you're covered in blood an' beggin' to come for me? Please stop?" **

Each of his suggestions only makes it worse. Not enough for him to get me to agree to this; no, he has to make me want it and then shove my face in it by trying to take it away. “Don’t stop!” _Just make me into something that you can love_, I beg silently. Another gentle stroke of his thumb and I can’t stop myself anymore. I lean into his touch and the words flow out in a babbling stream. “Want you, want you to make it better. Want you to take it all away.” The fear, the guilt, the barriers. I can't be making much sense right now, but there's nothing I'll deny him and he has to understand that.

**As the words tumble out of his mouth, I fall even harder for him. I wrap my arms around him and let him cling to me for a few minutes. If something like this happened before we even got started, I can't even imagine what's going to happen when we- but I have to. He needs to see, needs to know, and this is the only way I can think of to do it. Finally, I push him back and slide my fingers under his chin, tilting his head back so he can see my eyes. "Not gonna stop, luv. Won't stop unless you tell me to. You want out, you scream the Slayer's name." I let that sink in, then ask, "Ready for the demon room?" **

Shit, shit, shit. I didn't plan on showing him this much, didn't want him to see the need and desperation that beats just under my skin. He just wants some fun with me, some retaliation for the rough play, but the instant he shows me even a little tenderness, I let control slip for a bit and it all comes out. But I can hold it back now, won't let it get loose again. And it doesn't sound like there's going to be much more temptation to give in like that, not with his mention of me screaming. But that's all right. Paying for past sins is what I do. Torture is something I can deal with. Love I'm still not really sure about.

**Something flickers behind his eyes, but he doesn't say anything, just nods and gets to his feet, waiting for me to turn and start down the hallway before he follows. We walk in silence until we leave the human rooms behind and step into the demon rooms, where the scent of blood and pain grows stronger, and the arousal is almost enough to knock me off my feet. I don't want to linger long with him here, just show him what some of the demons call play. Various beings writhe upon surgical tables, their bloody faces alight with the ecstasy that only the worst pain can provide as their bodies are slowly sliced open. I let him look for a minute before I pull him along to the last room, gratified to see that it's empty and readied as I requested it to be. It's as open as the rest for viewing, but those who might come back here almost certainly won't get past the demon room, either too repulsed or attracted by the activities there to proceed. So for the most part, he's entirely mine. Or at least I can pretend he is. **

The demon rooms were a temptation almost too great to ignore. I wanted to ask to stay, even if it meant letting him strap me down and cut me to pieces. Actually, part of me wanted- no, _needed_ that. The burn of the razor, the sharp pain that I so richly deserve for all my sins. But Spike's made it clear that tonight isn't about that. This is about him and me and what I owe him. I let the shirt slide from my shoulders and look him straight in the eye. “Where do you want me, Master?”

He moves around me in a slow circle, his eyes drifting over me until I can feel the weight of his stare on every inch of my skin. One hand reaches out to touch me, fingers trailing over my back in a delicate caress that makes me shiver. “Think we'll start with somethin' light then. Go over to the post an' take hold of it.” He doesn't wait for me to obey, but turns around and starts to strip off his coat and shirt.

I steal a few precious seconds to stare at him, then force myself to move away and follow his orders. Excitement slides up my spine and I stop the shudder only by grabbing hold of the smooth wooden pole. From the corner of my eyes I can see him reach up to the wall filled with toys of all kinds and take down a crop, flogger and black leather paddle, the sight of them making a knot form low in my stomach. Anticipation has been goading me on all evening but now... now that he's actually about to hurt me, it's close to unbearable.

**He's watching me, so I take my time. The basic instruments are first, then my personal favorites, although I'm not going to let him see those just yet. I move to block his view when I get those, then wrap them in his discarded shirt, pick everything up and go over to the large table near the post. Once everything's been laid out, I'm ready to start. The crop's first, and I hold it out to him as I walk over to where he's waiting. “Kiss it and thank me," I tell him, repeating the words I remember from countless sessions with Angelus.**

He glances at the toys, swallows hard and bends to kiss the leather loop of the crop. But there's one glaring admission that I can't let pass. "Didn't thank me for what I'm about to do for you, pet. Think I should add another twenty for that, what do you think?"

I don't wait for him to answer before I lash out, the crop catching him on the shoulder, raising a pink welt almost immediately. I hit him several more times, moving slowly down his back until there's a trail of raised patches, and I have to touch. I stroke my fingers lightly over them, then press a kiss over his tattoo, tongue darting out to taste his skin just before I pull back and hit him again, harder than before.

Fuck, he's serious about this! I'd forgotten about the way I used to make him thank me for everything I did to him, how he was ordered to beg for the whippings and abuse that I heaped on him. And tonight's all about payback, isn't it? The welts on my back burn as the crop bites into my skin and I gasp, gripping the post as tightly as I can. It's been ages since I hurt like this, too long since I've had pain that I can revel in without having to fight, and it feels so much better than I remembered. I don't know how much longer I can stay still or keep quiet.

Another hard blow catches me between the shoulderblades and I moan, “Please,” although I don't know what I'm begging for. Spike does, though. He goes to the table and exchanges the crop for the paddle, swinging it through the air a few times as he returns. The swoosh of leather cutting air tightens that knot in my stomach, and a chuckle behind me tells me that he knows it. “Spread your legs,” he orders.

I start to obey, but apparently I'm not fast enough for him, because he brings the paddle down just under my ass, across the tops of my thighs and hisses, “I gave you an order, boy!” I barely manage to bite back a scream when he lays into me with it. Before I can think, I'm moving at his command, legs shifting apart, back arching to present myself without even being told to.

**“Slut,” I growl, then land a blow on each one of his cheeks. He grunts and I hit him again, then reach around to close my hand around his throat, exerting just enough pressure to remind him who's in control. "Got somethin' to say, pet? Want more, is that it? Or maybe it's those pesky pants... makin' it too hard for you to really feel it. I think we should get rid of 'em, don't you?"**

"I don-” I tighten my hold and he moans, “God, please, yes"

“Please what, baby? Gotta ask the right way if you want it,” I remind him, shifting to press up against his ass, letting him feel how hard I am.

He gasps. “Master! Please, Master.” And just like I knew he would, he's squirming against me, needy as a bitch in heat.

I yank his pants down and sure enough, he's wearing underwear. After I strip the jeans off him, I rip the underwear away, smiling at the unmistakeable sound of silk shredding. "Thought I told you nothin' underneath," I say, trying to sound as though I'm not absolutely delighted by his disobedience. After all, gotta have a reason for what's coming, right? And he just provided me with one of the best ones. I bring the paddle down hard on his bare ass, then go over to the table and unwrap the bundle. The cock ring and butt plug that I'd chosen for him are held up for him to see and I ask, "Want 'em, pet?"

Toys? He brought- oh, God. And why does he have to keep using that voice, the one that makes me want to roll up in it and forget everything else except him? I'd agree to eat my own grandmother if he told me to in that tone. A soft growl pulls me back to where he waits expectantly. With the look in his eyes, I can't do anything but tell him the truth. "Want everything, as long as it comes from you."

He stares at me for a long time, then drops the cock ring and pulls a tube out of his pocket. A flick of the cap and lube squirts out onto the plug. He wraps his hand around it and starts stroking, cranking my arousal up to unbearable heights as he lubes the toy up. "Must be feelin' so empty now, aren't you? Need somethin' fillin' you up, holdin' you here. Wouldn't want my pretty baby missin' out on anythin'. Told you I'd take care of you, yeah?" He presses against me, then slowly slides down along my body to kneel behind me.

Hands smooth over my ass and spread me. The plug strokes over my hole and the teasing touch, combined with his words, is almost enough to make me come right there. He pauses for a second, then positions the plug and starts to ease it in, pressing it slowly inside until it's completely lodged inside me. And God, I can't think beyond the solid presence of the plug, the way it fills me and holds me open all at once. Spike's fingers curl around my dick, reaching behind my balls to fasten the cock ring, holding me back from what could have been a humiliatingly quick orgasm. I remember this, remember doing this to him as Angelus, taking him to the brink of pleasure and pushing it back again and again.

But Spike isn't me. He's promised to take care of me, and I believe him. When he strokes me and brings his hand up for me to lick the precome from his fingers, I do so eagerly, wanting nothing more than to fall into him. I want to just skip the play and hold him, tell him everything I feel, everything I need, make him mine and beg him to make me his as well. But that's not what this is about, not what he wants from me, so I settle for worshipping his fingers as long as he'll allow, licking and sucking them until he pulls his hand back and starts toward the table once more.

**Bleeding fuck, who'd have thought Angelus would be such a sweet little sub? I have to take a minute by the table to steady my breathing and get control so I don't jump him, because I'm about two second away from throwing him down and fucking the daylights out of him right now. But he's not ready yet, doesn't understand yet and I want him to know before I take him. "Ready to take your punishment, pet?"**

"Yes, Master. Thank you." He's slipping into the role, and it even seems like he might not be fighting it anymore. I give him a kiss as a reward, soft and tender before I bite his lip and step back.

"Ever think to ask yourself why I used to disobey so much, Angel? Ever wonder how come I earned punishment after punishment?" I stroke a hand down his back and pinch the welt just over his ass. "See, there's somethin' about pain... it takes you out of yourself if you let it." I bring the flogger down right over his tattoo.

He hisses and arches into the lashes. “Pain gives you freedom.” I slash the flogger across his back, criss-crossing the lines. “An' if you know how to ride it, you can go flyin'. Wanna fly, pet? Wanna touch heaven? Wanna soar with me? Make me hot for you? Huh?” With each question I bring the whip down, cracking it on his back and ass over and over again until he's covered in stripes from shoulders to mid-thigh and shaking with the combination of pain and need. Leaning in, I whisper in his ear, “Tell me what you want, Angelus.” Please, God, let him be ready. Let him feel it, even if he never makes the connection, just let him know what I used to feel every time he touched me.

The name brings me up short, the reminder of my sins and my salvation blending in his rich tone. I never knew, never realized that he felt like that about me, even before the soul. It makes me wonder if it's even me he wants, if I'm not just some substitute for the sire he can't have any longer, if he trusted Angelus more than he does me. Anger bubbles up at the thought, jealousy clawing at my innards and I want to tear everyone who's ever touched him apart- starting with myself!

I want it to be _me_ that Spike wants kneeling at his feet, _my_ name he screams and purrs when he comes, and when his hand closes over me and he repeats his demand, I moan, “Want to be yours.” It's all I can think of and the words come straight from my gut. I want him to be mine, but not as much as I want him to have me. To make me his. To fuck me so hard and deep that the whole world will see me marked as his and know how much I love him.

**Jesus Christ. The words go straight through me, and the flogger falls to the ground as I reach for him, spinning him around to claim his mouth in a hard kiss. It's brutal, taking everything he'll give me and offering everything I have all at once, and by the time it ends, I'm tearing at my jeans and shoving him to his knees. "Fuck, Angel, need you, need your mouth," I babble, beyond any thought except desire and desperation.**

His mouth wraps around me, tongue stroking over and around the tip of my cock in a serpentine dance. I moan and slide my fingers into his hair, guiding him up and down in a slide that's building speed despite my better judgement. He takes me in like he wants to swallow me whole, hungry for more even as he chokes on it, and I have to force him back or I'm gonna lose the last little bit of control I have left.

I haul him up and drag him over to the table, sweeping it clean with one shove. I'm not sure if I throw him up on it or he scrambles up, not when all that matters is that Angel's stretched out naked on his back for me. Reaching down, I slide my cock over his, growling at the need that catches hold of me with the first brush of skin on skin. It's like wildfire, hotter than the flames that burned me alive, brighter than my soul when I got it back, and I kiss him again. He spreads his legs wider and moans when I slide my hand down to press on the base of the plug. "Want me inside?" I whisper against his lips, thrusting my cock slowly against his bound one. "Want me to fuck you, baby? Make you howl for me?"

"That even a question? I'm going to die here if you don't do it!"

"Beg me." He's so close, teetering on the edge, but I'm greedy and I want it all. Trust in me, Angel, let me take you to the heaven that I know is there. Give me everything and then you'll understand why I've done this, what it is that I really want from you.

At this point, refusal isn't even an option: "Need you inside, please, need to feel, need to know, please, please need to have it all, Spike," I babble mindlessly, promising him the sun, moon and stars if only he'll fuck me.

He throws one of my legs over his shoulder and pulls the plug free. It slides out and I'm left empty and aching, in agony from the sudden loss of that solid presence inside. I whimper and he shushes me, kisses me as he presses two fingers inside and then... ohhh, then I feel him nudging his way inside. He pauses for an instant, then buries himself full-length inside me with one thrust that makes me scream his name.

"Christ, Angel, so fucking tight," he gasps, and I can tell he's struggling to hold back. I squeeze him and he hisses, then starts to move, and it's brilliant. Sparks fly up from his dick along my spine to melt my brain. I claw at his back, wrap my legs around his hips and beg for more with half-formed, stuttered words. But it's his eyes that threaten to blow my head off. His beautiful blue eyes, dark with lust and heavy-lidded with desire, and I don't know how I ever fucked him without seeing his face before. It's right there, all I ever wanted from him- love and ecstasy, pure as sunlight, and it's me who's causing it.

**I catch hold of his hands, forcing them above his head and hold them there, slowing down to grind against him. My thighs are screaming at the change of pace, but just this once, we're going to do this my way. Angel shudders and stares up at me, his eyes lost and found all at the same time."Uh-uh... don't get to do that, pet. You're gonna lay there an' take it. Want you to feel it, feel every inch, yeah? Feel me fuckin' you, makin' you mine." I groan when his body tightens around me. "Yeah, you like that, don't you?" I can't stay still any longer, have to move, so I start fucking him again, even slower. "Beg, Angel. Convince me to give you what you need."**

He tenses up, almost like he's fighting against this last barrier and I'm almost ready to let him get away without having to push past it, when the words burst out, flowing like a river. "Please, Spike, please. Faster, harder, just split me up in two, make me yours, make me forget all I ever was before, please. I'll lose my mind here, please, my soul... ungh, God, Master, need it!"

His eyes widen and he starts fucking me faster and harder until the table starts to creak under us. "Yeah, that's it. Give it up, pet. All of it. Gonna... ohhhhh fuck, gonna fill you up, make you mine forever. My Angel, my sire, my lover, my- Mine," he growls, the sound reverberating in my bones. The cock ring pops open with a snick and then his hand's around me, stroking me with a loose grip that's going to drive me insane before he lets me come. I thrust up into his hand and he purrs, “Yeah, that's it, baby. Fuck yourself on my cock, show me how much you need it.” Fingers tease the tip of my dick, their touch tender despite the way his hips power into me and I'm going to lose it. There's no way I'll survive this, but I can't bring myself to care. Not when he's touching me like-

Wait. That's it, isn't it? What Spike said about seeking punishment, why he always acted out whenever the girls were gone. He wanted the contact, needed my touch and I only gave it to him when I- oh, God. I cry out when he starts stroking me again, stripping me expertly enough to make me wonder who else he's done this for, and I know I need to tell him that I understand and I'm sorry but all I can manage is, "Please, Master, Master, Spike, need to come, please." And suddenly I know what I need. I turn my head and bare my throat, hoping he can manage with the collar in place. “Bite me, please, Spike, need it, _please!_”

**"Tell me you want me," I snarl. "Tell me you need me. Tell me-" _Tell me you love me_. "Tell me you're mine!" I shift and stare down at him, licking my lips at the sight of his exposed throat. I'll have his words first, and then his blood, and each will do their part to keep me company after we leave here.**

"Want to be yours,” he pants. “Own it all, take every inch of my body and every fucking grain of my soul. I'm so in love with you, I don't even recognize myself anymore! Please, Spike, just... just give me this. Can't go on without you, don't care if you'll hate me tomorrow, but drink, please!".

He doesn't mean it, I know he doesn't mean it. He's flying on endorphins and lust and I have to remember that or I'm going to end up losing the last bit of me I have to give. But I allow myself to pretend for just a second as I sink my teeth into his neck and start to drink, pulling the blood from him even as I fuck him hard. I can hear the smack of skin, and I force myself back just long enough to moan, "Fuck, Angel, come with me," then take one last swallow of his blood as I start to come, my cock twitching and shooting inside him, emptying me completely until I sag down weakly on top of him, lapping and suckling at the bite on his neck. I want- oh, God, I want to claim him now, but I don't dare, so I just think the word: _Mine_. It's not permanent, not real, but just for now... for now I can pretend.

The words are a command I can't possibly disobey. I jerk and buck, coming all over him in long spurts that seem to never stop. He licks my neck, his tongue swirling over the marks and as I drift back down I can hear myself, gasping and murmuring, “Love you, love you, love you so fucking much...”

He stops the litany with a kiss, sharing the taste of my own blood with me before he pulls back and lays a hand on my cheek. "Angel, look at me." I don't see how I can possibly face him after this, but right now his words are gospel, so I obey. A tender smile greets me, the sight soothing me beyond any words he could give me. But because he's Spike, he can't let it go without saying something. "Need to hear me now, pet. You did so well an' I'm so proud of you. Gonna get you cleaned up now, an' then we'll head back ho- to your place, all right?"  
_  
Home_. He almost said it, didn't he? That's got to mean something, doesn't it? I nod slowly and he eases free, both of us groaning at the change. I feel empty, like something vital was just lost and I know he's colder than usual. It was always hard to leave the sanctuary of William's body, always difficult to return to the chill of my solitary existence, and I want to tell him that I know how it feels, but before I can, he comes back with a wet cloth and towel. He starts to clean me up, telling me softly how beautiful I am, how amazing I was when he whipped me and how wonderful it felt to be inside me, and I can't do anything but lie there and bask in his praise. Where did he learn to do this? I know it's not something I taught him, not when I remember the way I washed him when we were last together, turning him this way and that, scrubbing him like some kind of unwanted animal instead of the treasured childe he is.

**I toss the washcloth aside and reach for the clean towel, drying him carefully. His eyes are wide and dazed, like he's just discovered the secrets of the universe, and I can't help but smile. I know that feeling. I've been there so many times I practically have the directions engraved on my heart, and I want nothing more than to stare at him and marvel at the beauty of this incredible man, but I know he needs me now. It's always hard to come back to earth after a session like that, and he's not used to it, so it might be worse for him. But at least there haven't been any threats or mention of staking me, so I'm counting this as a win.**

When I go to reach for his pants, his hand shoots out to stop me. "I'm sorry, Spike, so sorry. Please don't hate me anymore."

Well, that was unexpected. "Shhh, pet. Couldn't hate you. Not ever." What's got him so upset all of a sudden? I run my hands over him, then sit him up and pull him off the table. "Got nothin' to be sorry for, luv. Never did. Here, lift your foot for me. Good boy, that's it. Now the other." I coax him into his clothes, then quickly wipe myself down and get dressed. When we're ready to leave, I reach for the leash, then hesitate. We're not playing anymore, so I really don't have the right to lead him like that.

He really isn't going to run. We'll drive home and he'll probably still be there. And he won't say that it was nothing, that what we did here was just for fun. I take the leash from the pile near the table and hold it out to him. "Take me home, Spike?" I want to ask him to stay as well, but I don't have the words for it, can't seem to ask for what I want so badly now that we're back on even footing.

He smiles, shoves the leash in his pocket and takes my hand. "C'mon, then." We walk back through the rooms, and I wonder if everyone can tell what happened back there, if the things I felt left marks like the whip did, or if I look the same as I did when I went in. He doesn't say anything on the trip back to Wolfram &amp; Hart, and neither do I. Some things are just too hard to talk about. Spike stays by my side as we ride the elevator up to my apartment, but stops in front of my door and turns to me. “On your knees,” he tells me, and although I'm not sure why he wants me there, I bow my head and sink down before him.

**There's just one more thing, one more task to done before the night's truly over. I bend down and give him a kiss, then slowly unbuckle his collar and take it off, holding it for just a second before laying it in his hands. "Thank you, Angel. Never gonna forget this." I give him another long kiss, then reluctantly step back. "Patrol tomorrow night?"**

"Uh, yeah.” He doesn't look up, doesn't meet my eyes, and I can feel my heart sink as I turn around and head back to my little hole in the ground. Only time will show if he understood and wants what I'm offering him. I just hope he hurries up with whatever decision he makes. I'm hanging on by a thread, and don't know how much longer I can hold on.


	3. Chapter 3

** _10pm my place  
Be there! (Please)_ **

It was the please that got me. Don't think I've ever heard Angel say that to me unless sex was involved. Of course, there's no guarantee it won't be tonight, especially when I consider the way he copped a feel when he slid the note into my back pocket. But I have to know, have to find out what was so important that he risked one of his little pets seeing him voluntarily touch me in a way that didn't leave bruises. I look at the note again, then stuff it back in my pocket and knock on the door.

He’s here! And he’s not even late! Why isn't he late? Spike's late for everything, but the one time I want him to be, the one time I need him to be, he's right on time. Did he plan this? What am I asking, of course he did. And where’s my shirt? No time to look for it- have to open the door or he might leave. He's standing in the hallway, looking gorgeous and I blurt out, “Sorry, can't seem to find my shirt.”

When he smiles I feel like banging my head against the wall. I seem to have a knack for saying and doing the dumbest things only when Spike's watching. Like yesterday in the meeting, when I was so caught up in watching Spike drink one of the beers he constantly smuggles in here that I missed most of what Wesley was trying to tell me. Since that night at the club I haven't been able to get him out of my mind. And while he hasn't said anything, he does smile more, at least when nobody else is looking. I just don't want to fuck this up, so I've decided to try something different. After all, who can resist a nice dinner invitation?

**I stare the gorgeousness that is my sire, too wrapped up in thinking about how I want to lick his chest to respond at first. Eventually I realize that he's staring at me like he's expecting something. “Huh? Oh... yeah.” He moves aside as I step inside, then closes the door behind me. “So what'd you wanna see me about?”**

“I just thought that we could have dinner together. I... uh, I got some fresh blood in yesterday and there's this bar downtown that delivers buffalo wings, so I-”

He's adorable when he's fumbling for words. “Wait, lemme get this straight. You wanna have dinner. With me. Here.” What the hell is he up to now?  
  
“For starters.” It seemed like a great idea yesterday, since it meant I'd get to watch Spike put things in his mouth. Besides, I know we have to talk, and dinner's as good a time as any. “I'll just go find my shirt.”

“Don't put yourself out for a shirt on my account, pet. Like the view the way it is, don't I?” he purrs. Oh, shit, I'm not gonna be able to keep from lunging over the table at him if he does any more of that. Wait, is he flirting with me?

“I, uh, I'll be right back,” I promise, and head into the bedroom. I need to put some space between us before I just blurt everything out and ruin the whole night.

**Never thought I'd say this, but Angel's pretty damn adorable when he's all flustered like that. I have a sneaking suspicion this whole 'dinner' set-up's going to turn out to be a seduction scene, probably complete with a linen tablecloth and candles, but I'm not about to complain. I strip my coat off and hang it up just before he walks back in, still buttoning his shirt. The sight of the red silk reminds me of the last time I saw him wear it, when he got down on his knees for me, and I wonder if he picked that shirt on purpose, or if it was just the first one he grabbed.**

“I thought we'd eat outside on the patio,” he says quietly. “It's just through there. Why don't you go sit down and then I'll bring everything out?” He seems nervous, even more than he was when we went to the club.

I nod and head out to the balcony. Sure enough, there's a table waiting that looks like something straight out of a '30s Hollywood romance. I should probably be wondering if this makes me the girl, but I can't seem to help smiling at the effort he went to. The old poof really can be sweet sometimes. I take a seat and wait for him to join me.   
  
I can do this. It's just Spike, after all. He's a normal person- true, an incredibly hot, annoying person that never fails to make me lose control, but that's not important. We'll just sit and talk over dinner, like two civilized vampires. I keep telling myself that as I load the tray up with the plate of buffalo wings, our blood and that onion thing I heard him telling Fred about. Taking a deep breath, I head outside, hoping he won't give me too hard a time about the table.

When I see his eyes light up at the sight of the food, I know I did the right thing. I shove thoughts of feeding him the wings in bed aside and set the tray down in the center of the table, then pour blood into each of our glasses. He grins at me and reaches for his, so I pick mine up as well. “To good company,” I offer.

He cocks his head to the side and stares at me, then slowly nods. “Good company,” he echoes, and takes his first sip. When his eyes widen, I know he's figured out the other part of my surprise. “All right. What the hell's goin' on here, Angel?”

_I'm totally, helplessly in love with you and can't think straight anymore._ I shrug and ask, “Can't I just want to have a nice dinner with you?”

** All right, now I'm sure he's up to something. He never eats human food, but he went out and got wings and an onion thing, and then he offers up human blood to top it all off! “Spose you could, but I don't seem to remember you ever wantin' to before.” **

"Thought, we could just spend time and... talk, about the things we did." Talk? He doesn't want to talk, not if the scent pouring off him is any real indication. I raise an eyebrow at him to let him know I'm not fooled, then drain the rest of my blood and go over to his side of the table. If he thinks he's going to tell me that what happened was a mistake, that what we did that night was wrong, he's got another think coming.

Of course, if he wants to do it again, well... no sense wasting time that we could be shagging, right? I straddle his lap and sink down, sliding my hands up to his chest as I look up and lick my lips. “There's lots more interesting things we could do 'stead of talk, pet.”

He kisses me before I can tell him to get up, and my mind goes blank. My hands slide down his spine and I'm kissing him back before I can stop myself. It feels so good to lose myself in him like this, and I wonder how I went a hundred years without it. He starts unbuttoning my shirt, then pulls back. I start to protest the loss, but he strips off his shirt and tosses it on the floor, then reaches for my belt. “See, isn't this better than talkin'?”

Talking! That's what I wanted to do and if I let him open my pants now, we'll never get to it because I won't be able to stop myself once he touches me. Especially if he does what I think he wants to do. I catch hold of his wrists and lightly bite his lower lip. “I love it, but we have to talk first, Spike. I need to get some things straight between us.”

** Right. I know what this part's about. “Don't worry, not gonna tell anyone we're shaggin', yeah?” Of course he'd want that bit down before we got started, probably been working himself into a frenzy about it for days. Can't have it get around that the great white hero's fucking a vampire, after all. **

I start working my way down his neck, teasing with teeth and tongue and he moans, “Spike... wait... no...”

“No? That mean you don't want me doin' this?” I close my teeth on one of his nipples, then suck lightly on it. “Or this?” I reach down and squeeze his cock through his pants. “An' I'm guessin' you really wouldn't want me on my knees blowin' you, makin' you scream when I bring you off, is that it?”  
  
Oh, Jesus. Spike hasn't sucked me off since Rome and if he does now, it's really all over, and I can't have that just yet. Especially when he thinks I'm ashamed of him, that I don't want to tell my friends about us. I might not want them knowing all the details, because that collar might give Wesley ideas, but that's beside the point. I catch him when he starts to slither out of my lap and try again. “Spike, stop it!”

He stills instantly and it takes me a second to understand. Fuck, I just pulled rank and used my sire voice. I didn't mean to, but how else was I supposed to get him to listen? That tone was the only thing that used to get through to him, and when he shivers, I can tell he remembers it. He's about to explode any second now, probably punch me in the nose for treating him like a fledgling again and then storm off. I open my mouth to explain, but his low voice interrupts me. “How d'you want me... Master?”

Oh, God. He hasn't called me that since he was a fledge, and the thought of this glorious creature he's become throwing himself at my feet like that shoots straight to my head. Especially now, when I know how strong he is, know that he can beat me in a fight. It isn't force that makes him offer this, and I can't turn him away anymore. We'll talk afterwards, but right now... right now I have to have him.

** “Hell,” he whispers, and I know he's not going to fight me anymore. “Get on your knees.” **

I slide to the floor, put my hands behind my back and bow my head. I love hearing him use that voice- it never fails to make me hard, and he knows it. At least, he should if he hasn't forgotten everything about how it used to be between us. Maybe he's finally figured it out, maybe he knows now what I've been wanting ever since that first night.

I hear the rustle of cloth and the slide of his zipper, and then he's reaching down to cup my chin and lift my head. I want to look up, see if his eyes are brown or yellow, but I don't dare. Instead I stare at his cock, my mouth watering at the sight of it. His laugh shivers down my spine as he releases me. “Have at it, then, boy! You want it that much, you can show me how much you've missed it.”

Fuck, why does he have to call me that? It's like an instant shot of Slayer blood, and I'm already hard enough to hurt. I groan and lick his cock, then open up and take him inside. And God, the taste of him... it's like coming home, like that first night all over again. I bob my head forward, taking a little more, then start to tease him with little strokes of my tongue, flicking and then circling the tip of his prick.

I gasp as he teases me with his tongue and then slides back down. His mouth is so perfect, like it was made just for my cock. I slide a hand into his hair and urge him further down. "Yeah, that's it, don't stop. You look so marvelous with my cock filling you up like that. And you love every second of it, don't you? You love that I'll have to think of you sucking me off now, every time you open your mouth.”

He moans and nods, then sinks down until I can feel the back of his throat. He pulls off and flicks his tongue at my head, like he's putting on a fucking show, then ducks his head and takes me all the way in with one swallow. "Christ!"

I remember how I taught him to suck cock, how I shoved first a bull whip and then a rosary down his throat to make him overcome his gag reflex. And I know I should regret that, but when he moans and the vibrations nearly send me through the roof, I can't seem to care. He pulls back and then starts sucking me in long strokes until I'm so hard it hurts. He scrapes his teeth over me and sucks hard, and I can't keep still. My fist tugs at his hair and I start thrusting up, fucking his mouth as I get closer. “Fuck... Spike... so good... my boy.”  
   
**Precome's flowing like a river down my throat, sweet and heavy and so fucking addicting that I don't ever want to stop tasting him. I can feel him getting harder as his hands grab my hair, shoving me down while he starts to thrust into me. The world falls away until I almost don't know where or when I am. Don't much care, either. I open my mouth for him and moan as he claims me in one of the most basic ways. And I know that no matter what it is he wants, I'll give it to him.**

He looks down and our eyes lock just before his hips jerk and he comes, his cock twitching as he shoots down my throat. He jerks my head down but I manage to pull back in time to catch the last few spurts so I can taste him again. It rolls across my tongue like thick honey, bitter and tangy, so good that it makes me shudder with need. He mutters something I don't quite hear, then his hands slip out of my hair and I lick him clean with long, slow swipes of my tongue, just the way I know he likes.

I can't believe I ever let him go. Just thinking about his eyes, so blue and wide, so full of devotion, is enough to make me want more. How did I exist this last century without seeing those eyes every day? And the scent of his arousal... I've never had anyone get so turned on from giving me pleasure. I know it's selfish and wrong, but I want to keep him here forever, tuck this perfect creature under lock and key so nobody but me ever gets to see him, touch him, or have him touch them ever again. I'm depraved, damned beyond any hope of redemption, but as long as I have Spike kneeling at my feet, I don't care.

He licks his lips and I have to taste him. I pull him up onto my lap and kiss him, delving deep inside his mouth, drinking him down as the mingled flavors of blood, Spike and come hit my tongue. He wraps his arms around my neck and opens for me, letting me devour him until he squirms and whispers, “Fuck me?”

The brief flash of alarm that crosses his features almost immediately afterwards cuts deep, because I know what it means. He's remembered whose arms he's in, remembered what the penalty for asking out of turn was, and while I want to assure him that he doesn't have to fear me any longer, some darker part of me laughs with glee at the opening he's just given me. "Want me to fuck you? Throw out all of my carefully made plans and just bend you over right now?”

** His growl makes me shiver, but I'm already squirming in his arms and unbuckling my belt, tearing my jeans open. I'll risk the beating if it means I get fucked, and the sooner the better. "Sod the plans, mate. Didn't need 'em anyway, should know that.” I've always been a sure thing as far as he's concerned, never needed seduction before and certainly don't need it now. **

"Insolent at the most inappropriate times. That always was one of your problems." He smiles, and the flash of teeth makes me stop dead. That's Angelus's smile, and the brown eyes that stare at me have a cold hardness that I've only ever seen in my sire's gaze. He reaches for my belt and pulls it free, then takes hold of both ends. “Wrists,” he barks, cracking the leather sharply.

My hands shoot out in front of me without thinking. I can't disobey that tone, even when it means I'm about to pay dearly for everything I've just done. Hell, who am I kidding? I've been waiting for this since he dragged me out of the club, hoping he'd make me his again. It might now be the exact way I wanted it, but beggars can't be choosers, here. And I can't hide how badly I want him, not when he pulls me to my feet and yanks my jeans down, leaving me standing starkers in front of him, just a heartbeat away from embarrassing myself.

God, he's beautiful. He stands there so trustingly, still my sweet and obedient boy despite all I've done to him. I know I shouldn’t take him up on his offer, should give him a way out or a safe word, like he did at the club, but I can't. He’s mine, completely and unconditionally, and this time I’m going to prove that I can take good care of him. 

I wrap the belt around his wrists, pulling it tight before I close the buckle. I'm tempted to lay him out on the table, spread him over it like a decadent feast, but I'd really rather spend the night fucking Spike instead of cleaning up after him, so I grab the belt and my cup of blood. Getting to my feet, I yank him along behind me as I head for the living room, where I shove him down to the floor as soon as we get through the door. We'll do the table another time; right now I have a boy who needs to be reminded of his place, at least for the night. “You break that belt and I'll toss you right out on your ass,” I growl. “I don't care if the building catches fire, you stay right here, got that, boy?”

** All I can do is whimper and nod. Yes, Sire. Anything, Sire, Just as long as you _fuck me_, Sire! But honestly, I don't think any of that would come out if I tried, so I just squirm against his knee as he kneels down between my legs and shiver at the sensation that skitters down my spine. He pets me, his big hand sweeping over my skin like I'm some kind of animal that he's soothing, and waits for me to calm down a little before he speaks. **

“Got a bone to pick with you, here, Spike. You see, I didn't get my dinner because some greedy little slut was too hungry for my cock to wait for me to finish. And I ordered this dinner for a very special night that I had planned, so I think I should get to eat it, don't you?”

I'm nodding again before I feel it, the warm wash of blood being drizzled all over my body, coating me in long stripes of red from chest to thighs. Two fingers skate through a small pool of it on my stomach and he offers them to me. I know he wants me to suck on them, get him wet enough to play with me, but I can't resist teasing him a little. I lick his fingers clean instead, trying to hang onto what little shred of control I've got for as long as I possibly can.

So, he thinks he's done sucking for the night? I reach down to smear blood over his nipples, teasing each one into tight little peaks before I duck down and bite, hard. He gasps and I can hear the bones shifting as he vamps out. I stab my fingers into his mouth, slicing one on his fangs. The taste of my blood mixed with the human is too much to resist, and he moans, then starts sucking every last drop off my skin.

I raise my head and smile at him, slowly thrusting my fingers in and out of his mouth, taunting him with what's coming. “Good boy. That's it, get me all wet.” His eyes flutter open for a second, then close again as he keeps sucking. I shift to the side, coating my other hand with blood, then stroke him once, hard. He howls and bites down into my fingers, and I let him take a little more before I pull back.

“My turn to play,” I tell him, then slowly lower my head and lick him from balls to tip. He groans and I can feel him start to shake as I begin to tongue bathe him, thoroughly cleaning the blood off before I stroke him and add more, then start over again. By the time I finish with the fourth round, he's whimpering steadily, ever bit as out of control with need as I was.

** Jesus Christ, he's trying to kill me! I know this is way of getting me back, both for the other night and for messing with his little seduction scene earlier, and I guess death by denied orgasm is better than barbed wire cock rings or fucking me raw over and over again, like he used to. He slides his fingers out of my mouth and I gasp, “Please!” **

“Please what?” God, that purr again, so close to my cock that I can almost feel it roll over my skin. He swirls his tongue around my tip, teasing the slit open until I can feel the precome bubble out in a stream. And I know I'm supposed to be a master vampire, but right now I think I'd sing 'God Save the Queen' stark naked in the middle of the lobby with 'Angel's Bitch' tattooed on my right ass cheek if he'd just-  
  
“Suck me, please, please, sire, need you,” he babbles. And there it is, that last little abandonment I was waiting for. Maybe he's a quick study after all. I reward him with a kiss on the tip of his dick and slide my fingers back to stroke over his hole.

“Keep still,” I tell him, then take him into my mouth and suck hard. He gasps and claws at the carpet, struggling not to buck up into my mouth, but I know he will. This is part of the fun of it, after all, giving him orders I know he can't follow so I can watch him struggle. He moans and tenses up, so I take him a little deeper in, letting my teeth just barely catch his skin. Somehow he manages to hold on, so I slide one finger inside, barely penetrating him while I move halfway down his cock.  
  
**Oh, holy fuck, he really is trying to kill me! Not gonna give in, though, not gonna move... I can feel myself shaking with the effort, know he can feel it as well, but I clench my teeth together. Gotta show him, gotta prove that I'm better than I was the last time we did this, even if I think I'm gonna dust if he holds back much longer.**

A second finger slides inside and then he does it. He purrs around my cock and takes me deep, and I scream. "Sire!" The strangled sound is one I'd be ashamed of it were anybody except him sucking me. He always did know how to make me lose it, and he's proving now that he hasn't forgotten a bloody thing. I arch up, then squirm, trying to get him to touch that place inside, that- right there! "God, yes!"

I stroke my fingers over his prostate, purr one last time and then pull back just before he goes over the edge. “You know the rules better than that, boy. No coming until I say you can, and I've waited long enough to get inside you.” I stand up and peel my pants off, then walk into the bathroom, chuckling when I hear him protest, “But- ANGEL!”

It only takes a few seconds to grab the lube, but I take my time getting back to him, letting him hear me turn the water on and off while he waits. It's petty, I know, but he deserves it after jumping the gun on our night like he did. He's writhing on the floor when I get back, his skin a gorgeous counterpoint to the deep blue carpet as he thrusts his hips up against the air. I lean against the doorway and watch for a minute, stroking my dick at the picture he makes. One day I'm going to have to sketch him like this, but not now.

I go back to kneel between his legs, flipping the cap open and squeezing some lube out onto my fingers. “Miss me?” I ask softly, working my fingers back inside, twisting them as I start to fuck him.

He starts to move as much as he can, working himself on my fingers, and I lean down to kiss him. “Missed this,” he sighs. “Need you, Angel, please. Gotta feel you inside me, luv.”

I love how ready he is to beg, how gorgeous he is in his need. He's so sweet in this state, I couldn't deny him if I wanted to. "Going to take care of you now, boy,” I promise, moving to slick myself up, pressing against him for a second before I push forward.

** He presses into me, a slow slide of cock that leaves me feeling- "So full. Christ, Angel, so fucking full!"  I wriggle a little, moaning at how good he feels inside, then look up at him. He's beautiful, and I think I'd spend forever with any torment he dreamed up just for a few moments of this. I wrap my legs around his hips as his hands come up to hold my wrists down, then rock up to meet him when he starts to move. **

“God, I love you,” he mutters. “Love it when you need me like this.” Angelus always did get romantic when we were in the middle of a bleeding brilliant shag. My heart doesn't seem to know that he doesn't mean it, though, cause it tightens and I can feel the words push up into the back of my throat, so I start nibbling on his neck to keep them back. Can't tell him, not now, not like this, not ever.

But he's picking up speed now and then he twists his hips and I see stars. I can't hold back any longer, have to feel him, have to have him. My whole world has narrowed down to Angel. Angel's cock in my ass, sending fire rushing through me with every stroke, Angel's hands around my wrists, pinning me in place until I can't do anything but lie there and take it. Take him. I buck underneath him and moan, "God, Angel! More... please, want more. Need it, need you so much..."  
  
I can't stop. I know I'm insane for telling him like this, but I can't help myself. I drive into him harder and faster, pounding him down against the floor with every thrust. He's straining against the belt, rising up to meet me, ecstasy filling his face with a light that drives me completely wild. God, I want to bite him so badly now. Want to taste his strength, his unadulterated passion again. But I think this time it's out of question. If I take that step, it'll get too close to perfection for sure, so I just fuck him even harder for all I'm worth and order, "Come for me, Spike!"

He arches up and I can feel him clenching around me as he drenches us both in come, pulling me over the edge with him. I push my final thrusts into his convulsing body and scream his name, desperately trying to find some thought to keep me from careening off into that absolutely perfect moment. He's just so beautiful beneath me, his head thrown back, his throat bare and open for me, and the need to bite fires through me. I can feel Angelus deep inside, pushing at me to take that last step, to sink fangs into that pale flesh, and while I'll never know where it came from, somehow I hold myself back.

** I drift back to earth from where I've been floating somewhere out in the stratosphere, only to find that Angel hasn't moved. He's still buried inside me, his hands clamped around my wrists, his face closed in what almost looks like pain. I know it can't be something I've done though. Can it? **

“Angel?” He doesn't answer, just turns his head to one side and it hits me. He got his end away and this is the 'get out, Spike' part. Never mind that I offered him my throat, never mind that he rejected me again, never mind that he just pumped about a gallon of come into me. He's done and now I'm gone. Well, fine by me. I wriggle a little bit and wait for him to look at me. “Get off me."

What?! I look down to see Spike glaring at me. “Get off me,” he repeats, and shoves my chest. But- after we just- he wants to leave?!? How can he do that again? Doesn't he get that I love him? Need him?

I pull out of him, but I don't let go of his wrists. I'll be damned if I let him bolt again. Just treat him like a person, I remind myself. A person that needs to be pinned down right now. "Spike, that was amazing. I-”

"- love my tight little ass," he says flatly "Now, you mind unstrappin' me so I can take my amazin' ass home an' get cleaned up?"

Okay, so the whole person thing isn't working. Maybe the Sire thing will. I take a breath and say in my best Angelus tone, "I do mind, actually. You're going nowhere until I say you can, boy.” The second I see his nostrils flare, I know I just fucked up. Again.  
  
**Well, that's a new twist. And not exactly a welcome development. I kick him off of me, then sit up and start working my wrists free of the belt. It was just sex, gotta remember that. Bloody brilliant fucking, but that's all it was. Can't let it go to my head or I'll find myself somewhere I definitely don't want to be again. "Don't recall askin' your permission, mate."**

He doesn't bother to say anything, just grabs me by the waist and tosses me over his shoulder, then starts for the bedroom. "What the fuck are you doing? Lemme go!" I twist and turn, but he has me tight. "Angel! Goddammit, put me down!"

He plops me down on the bed and before I can get up, he's got cuffs locked around my wrists! I pull against them as hard as I can, but they don't give at all, and I know I'm fucked even more than I just was. He's standing at the foot of the bed staring at me and I sigh. "Fine. Whatever you're gonna do, just... do it an' get it over with."

The little shit. I'm still tingling in the aftermath and he wants to pick a fight with me. I breathe out sharply and shake my head at the bundle of defiant resignation that I just chained to my bed. "God, Spike, I wanna do about a hundred things to you right now, and strangling is not that far down on the list, but we need to talk this out." I walk over to his side. "Why the hell do you run away every time we make lo- get close?"

He glares at me and I sigh. I don't understand why he thinks staying would be such a horrible thing. I mean, I understand why he left after the first time- my approach was less than stellar. “Look, I know I was a jealous prick that first night. I lost control- seems to be a thing when you're around. But that night at the club...” I want to ask what I did wrong then. I did just as he said, obeyed his every whim and still he left me standing at the door.

** “That was your choice, pet. Can't get angry with me cause you took it an' liked it.” He just stares at me, not taking the bait, and I see where this is going. This is going to be talk about our feelings time. Soul must be all guilty about enjoying such magnificent shags or some such. "Look, we fucked. It was fun, it was... well, fuckin' incredible, but that's what it was, yeah? Don't need the red exit sign flashin' on to know when it's time for me to head out." **

He rakes a hand through his hair and asks, “Would it kill you to stay for a while, though, instead of leaving the second you- we finish?”

"Yeah, right. Stay until you decide you're done with me, is that it? No thanks, mate, rather-"

"What the hell do you want from me, Spike? You say you don't want me to treat you like he did, but when I'm trying to treat you like a person, you won't so much as say two words to me!" He looks like he's about to stroke out or something, and I'm ready to start yelling when suddenly he asks, "Do you want him back?"

**"Want WHO back? Gotta start makin' some sense here, don'tcha?" The rage I can hear in his voice is making my head spin. What the fuck is he talking about? And why is he looking at me like that, like I'm the lowest thing on earth who somehow still managed to kick his puppy dog?  
**  
"Angelus! Is that it, you want fucking _Angelus_ back? Do you get off on being treated like dirt, is that what it is?” I demand. I see him start to struggle against the chains and I can't keep the words back any longer. “If I whip you so you can't walk for days, if I take everything away that you ever liked just to see how long you can cry, if I keep you here and rape you with a cross every hour or so, will you stay then?”

“Fuck you,” he spits, his eyes like icicles.

I've done it now, killed everything that might ever have been between us, and I feel my heart break. “God, what do I have to do to make you believe that I love you?"

He goes very still all of a sudden, his eyes widening. “Don't,” he says, his voice choked like he's trying to keep quiet, but I can't stop now.

“You're driving me insane, Spike! You're just about the only creature in the world that actually gets what it's really like, how it feels to be a vampire with a soul. You're the only one I really want by my side when the big fight goes down, and the only one I want nearby after it's over. And you know why? Because around you, I can let go. I don't have to be the shining champion or the evil demon or the big important boss. I can just be me. I've always loved you, but it's different now. Now I just have to look at you and you remind me of what I want to save the world.”

** I can't take it anymore. Sitting here and listening to him say those things... it's tearing me up inside. "Don't say that! Don't you fucking say another word! You can't just say somethin' like that when you an' I both know you don't mean it! You wanna hear me say it? Fine! I'd rather have Angelus than you cause he's a helluva lot less cruel!" He never tried to break my heart like this. **

His fist shoots towards me, then stops less than an inch from my face. “You can't mean that!” he cries, his voice shaking. “He never tried to see you as anything besides his bitch, his private fucktoy to play with however he wanted. And now, now that you've got a soul... he'd kill you the first chance he got. You can't possibly mean it."

I wonder why he thinks I don't know what would happen the second Angelus got free. "He was honest," I reply in a low voice. "Never promised anythin' he couldn't give, never-"

"What can't I give you, Spike? What kind of proof do you need before you'll believe that I'm in love with you? I don't know what else to do, what else I can give you, so tell me!“ I feel like I'm going to throw up, especially when he closes his eyes, like he can't bear to look at me. I sigh and ask, ”Do you have any idea how close you just came to getting your damned beloved Sire back?"

"What do you... " He stops suddenly, going almost impossibly still. And just when I'm about to give up and let him out, I hear it: the shaking whisper of a terrified childe. "Angelus?"

"What?! No!" I grab his shoulders and shake him when he still won't look at me. “Do you actually think I'd tie you up to talk if I'd lost my soul?” He's shaking, so I sink down on the mattress by his hip and wait for him to open his eyes. “It's still me, Spike. But it was close- very close. It just takes a moment, you know. One goddamn second where I lose myself in someone I love, where I let go of all the worries, and it's all over.”

** Yeah, it's still there. I can see his soul shining in his eyes, and I relax a little bit. That is, until I realize- "You nearly lost your soul... over me?" Wait. If he nearly lost his soul, then that must mean- "You- Angel?" **

"Yes, that's what I was trying to tell you the whole time. I love you, Spike, but I'll never be able to let go of this. If I do, he'll be back, and he'll ruin everything and everyone I care about." His voice gets quieter as he talks, but I'm still stuck on those three words I never thought I'd hear.

He loves me. Angel loves me. My sire loves me!! I want to scream and howl, let everybody know that finally he- But he loved Buffy too. Still does, doesn't he? And when he thought she was too hard to be around... "You sayin' you're gonna leave?" And God, I hate the way I sound, like a child begging for reassurance, but I really don't think I could take it if he walked away from me now, not after telling me this.

He hesitates for a second, then says softly, “You want me gone, I'm gone."

I look down at the bedspread, the way its rumpled on the satin sheets, and wonder what it would be like to sleep there. What it would be like to wake up in his arms under that down comforter, what it would be like to... make love on those sheets. To finally get to feel him make love to me the way I've wished for since I crawled out of my grave. And I know there's only one thing I can say: "Don't go."

My chest aches, and I can almost feel my heart beat when he says the words. At least with Buffy I could pretend that she would be happier in the long run, tell myself that I was doing what was best for her. But with Spike, I'd have nobody to blame for the empty void in my heart but myself. His eyes are sparkling, glowing with a light that I haven't ever seen in them. It's quiet and sweet, and all for me. I lean over to kiss him, placing small light kisses all over his face. “I won't,” I assure him in between kisses.

He turns his head, trying to catch my lips, but I can't stop, want to learn every last inch of him and memorize it. He pulls against the chains, and the metal rattling makes me look up. I give him a sheepish grin. “Um, sorry about that. I should've found another way, but I didn't know... I'll make it up to you, though, okay?”

“Don't care, just lemme out! Need to touch you, pet, please,” he begs with a low whimper. Shit, I hadn't thought about that! I grab the key from the nightstand and unlock him. The chains fall away and the second he's free he reaches for me. “God, Angel... love you, sire. Always loved you, never thought-” And I know I should let him talk, but I can't wait to kiss him any longer.

** A part of me still can't believe this isn't some kind of dream. I keep thinking I'm going to wake up alone back in my craphole apartment, with no Angel anywhere. But then he's kissing me, whispering against me lips and telling me again that he loves me, and it's so close to heaven I can almost taste it. When he finally pulls back, his face is alight with a smile that's positively... angelic. I pull him back down for another kiss, abandoning myself completely to my Angel and his love for me. **


	4. Chapter 4

** I never thought I'd say this, but I'm shagged out. I've gone for hours with the Slayer, spent all week in bed with three redheads once, but one night in my sire's arms, one night of Angel making love to me with hands and mouth and body, and I'm done in. And from the looks of it, he's not much better off. But at least I'm still here, curled against his side. "Angel?" **

"Hmmm?" he mutters, the sound rumbling through me. I'm tempted to just nestle in closer and go back to sleep, but I need to know, have to prove to myself that last night wasn't just a dream.

"Tell me again... please?" I know I'm pathetic, but I can't help asking. I feel like I've been wandering lost for ages and now my sire's found me and there's only one thing I really want in the entire world.  
  
I open my eyes and look at him, still hardly able to believe the he's really here. "What? That you can move in here today? That I'll tie you up whenever you want? That you're the most gorgeous creature in the world? That we have to tell the team? That I can't wait to go to that club with you again?”

“Angel,” he growls, and I chuckle softly. I know what he wants to hear, but I can't resist teasing him just a little.

I pull him close and whisper in his ear, “That I love you...”

** Oh, God. It's really true. He loves me, finally loves me like I love him. "All of it... but especially that last part." I nuzzle his neck and breathe in, drawing in the scent of sire and Angel and home. Then part of what he said hits me and I raise up onto one elbow. "Wait. What'd you mean 'go to the club'?" **

He grins and nips my ear. "I haven't really kept up on all the toys they had there, and some of them looked pretty interesting.”

I smirk at him, starting to catch on to his train of thought. "Want me in a collar, do you? Somethin' shiny, with a little tag that says 'Property of Angel' or some such?”  
  
My cock twitches at the thought of him marked like that and I wince. The little monster really has no mercy, to taunt me with something like that. “Fuck, yeah. But for the club, I was thinking more along the lines of wearing the one you gave me.”

“Bloody hell.” I can tell that caught him by surprise. He probably never thought he'd get that chance again.

“What, you thought I'd let you have all the fun?” I just found out how good it feels to be at his mercy, and I'm not about to give it up. I want him to take me again, want to let him do every single depraved and painful thing he's ever thought about, and I'll beg for it if I have to. “You wouldn't deny me the chance to be your slave again, would you... Master?”

** He really wants that? Wants to kneel for me and let me do anything I want to him? I grab his wrists and pull his arms up over his head, pressing them down into the mattress, then lean down until I'm almost kissing him. "Say it again." **

"Master," he purrs in that velvet voice. “I love you, Master.”

Holy fuck! I bite his lip, then lick the drop of blood away. "Gonna make you scream that one of these days, pet. Scream it with me buried deep inside you an' a whole host of people lookin' on."

“God, Spike!” The thought of people watching him fuck me while I beg makes me hard all over again. I arch up against him and moan.

He slides a hand down, his fingertips stroking me lightly. “Just Spike, luv... although really, not gonna complain if you wanna call me God.”

"Just fuck me now, will you?" I groan, thrusting up against his hand.

He wraps his fingers around me, gives my dick a gentle squeeze and then lets go. "Won't fuck you, Angel." I open my mouth to protest when he reaches over to get the lube from the nightstand. "Gonna make love to you, though, til you beg me to stop."

And even though I know I'll never want him to stop, I can't think of anything I'd like better.


End file.
